


Discoveries

by BranwellBronte



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 16:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BranwellBronte/pseuds/BranwellBronte
Summary: Silna teaches Harry how to please her. https://terrorkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/396.html?thread=26508#cmt26508





	Discoveries

            When they’d taught each other the word “alone,” she’d immediately laid her hand on his arm and solemnity had overtaken her. “Harry. Always alone.”

“Oh, no, no.” He’d looked at his notebook page where he’s scratched the Inuit word for “alone.” “I’ve never been completely alone. There have been so many people in my life, from my parents to my professors at school to the surgeons who have trained me to, well, all the men on these ships! Not for one moment have I ever been alone.” He’d looked up confidently but she was shaking her head, her eyes closed, still pointing at the notebook.

“Always alone and…” She’d paused, then touched the corners of her eyes with her fingers and gently dragged them down her cheeks, shaken her shoulders, and made a weeping sound. She met his gaze again and her eyes were grave. “Always alone and sad.”

“‘Lonely,’” he’d said automatically. He’d bitten his lip and made to smile even as the feeling throbbed in its permanent place in his soul. “I…”

But she’d nodded as she’d laid a hand on his cheek. “You are lonely.”

He’d closed his eyes and watched the darkness on the insides of his eyelids. Parents who didn’t touch him affectionately or praise him for his high marks. Schoolboys who had either ignored him or chased him until they cornered him and upended his pockets for coins, raiding his bookbag for his magnifying glass and binoculars for the hell of it. Professors who’d given him high marks but didn’t ask him about his life or invite him to tea. The men on these ships, the ones who still snorted behind their hands at how poorly he’d pulled in the sledges and rolled their eyes at his attempts at small talk. He’d be the one helping to sew them up if they took a bullet, yet until he did, he was an unloaded gun to them. Useless. The anatomist who wasn’t even a surgeon. Why was he here?

Lonely.

“Yes. I don’t have anyone. I never have. Friends, lovers, a wife…no one.” He’d leaned his face into her palm and they’d sat there for some time, and then for some more time.

He doesn’t remember laying back against the wall with his legs stretched out so it’s with surprise that the finds himself this way, and with the lamps nearly burnt out. As he groggily opens his eyes, he feels a weight shift on his shoulder. He almost jerks from the surprise but his rapid heartbeat slows as soft hair brushes his cheek and then her head settles back into the crook of his neck. His brain whirrs into action: I have been able to form a significant enough bond with her that she feels safe enough to sleep next to me. The likelihood of her knowledge as to whether she is aware if her head has come to rest against my shoulder is unknown, as she is asleep and not in complete control of all her motor functions. It’s possible that in her unconscious state, she has…

            This line of thought is gently crushed with simple notions that come to him and pleasantly loop around in his mind: she sat next to me. She understands what I need. Occupation of the mind, yes, but of the heart too. My heartbeat in her cupped hands. Protected. Loneliness turned on its head.

            “Harry.”

            He startles slightly out of his haze as he feels her shift until her cheek is against his. Then he’s wide awake and his blood is thrilling at the feel of her soft skin against his stubble. He gently presses his face back to hers. “Silna.”

            He smiles at that. She’d ended a lesson one night by pointing at herself and speaking so softly that he could barely hear, “Silna.” She’d pointed at him. “Harry.” Then again at herself. “Silna.” And then covered her mouth with her hand and then reached and covered his own. “A secret,” she’d said firmly, but her mouth softened as he’d nodded rapidly.

            “I will never tell.”

            The hint of a smile. “You will not.”

            Now he can feel her smile as she whispers, “We are together,” against his cheek in a voice barely above a breath. His own breath catches and his stomach flutters. He rubs his cheek against hers and would have been happy to do so for as long as she wanted but she takes his face in both hands and places the first kiss of his life on his lips. It’s nothing short of an earthquake in his body, he’s shaking of happiness and sheets of stopped up emotions are cracking apart and light is shining through. He follows the movements of her mouth, the opening and closing, how she tilts her head one way and then another, letting her lead him down this most glorious of paths.

            Time is becoming difficult to measure, but she manages to remove his jacket, vest, shirt, underclothes, socks, and shoes in what is surely less than a minute before she raises her arms and he jumps to help her remove her coat before he can even register his own nakedness. Time bows out of its place of any importance in the universe as they lay down among her blankets and pillows and she pulls his face to her body. This is happening. This is happening. Is it? Yes, her hands reassure him, running up and down his back.

He explores the slopes and rises of her, the valley of the hollow of her throat, down to her breasts. He kisses every place he touches because she sighs joyfully every time he does and she holds his head closer to her. “Tongue,” she whispers after he’s kissed her breasts for a time. He’s sighing joyfully as well as he puts his tongue on her nipple and experimentally rolls it around it his mouth. He feels her shudder and jerks his head away, alarmed and anxious, but she’s shaking her head and laughing silently. “No, it was good,” she assures him. Relief settles into him and he feels like his mouth has been away from her too long so he takes her other nipple in his mouth and moves it around with his tongue and sucks it. This time she throws her arm over her mouth and gasps under it. In an instant, she’s removed his hand where it lay on her shoulder and placed it between her legs.

She takes her arm away from her mouth, smiles down at him, and whispers, “Tongue.”

What? He stares at her gaping eyed for a moment. She only smiles back and moves his hand around between her legs. “Go down there and use your tongue.”

“I can do that?” He thought being naked with her was a new, vibrant world but this is delving deeper into the intimate space between them than he knew was possible.

“Yes. Use your tongue. In any way. In all ways.”

He feels wetness on his fingers between her legs and he needs to know more. “I’ll do my best,” he whispers back and she pulls his face up for a kiss before gently pushing his head down again.

He’s seen illustrations of a woman’s body before, of course, has studied them in anatomy classes. But classes at college seems utterly flimsy now that he sees her in full and knows that by using his tongue, he’ll give her pleasure. That’s not something he was taught. “The pleasure of the woman is negligible and unimportant in the act of copulation in which the sole goal is that the man plants the seed to grow a child within her,” he recalls from one textbook. “Copulation.” What an ugly, sterile word. Maybe he’ll write the first textbook about lovemaking between a man and woman. “Touch her, kiss her, use your tongue as she directs you. Above all, give _her_ joy.”

His heart beats a sweet thump and he realizes just how far they’ve walked down the path of trust. So many rocks and broken land at the start, and now to this smooth moment he wishes were in a meadow, the grass soft for her, flowers bending over her.  But if it must be on this ship in the ice in Nowhere, he will embrace it and wrap himself in her glory and grace.

Her joy is paramount to the how hard he feels right now. That can be dealt with later. She has a beautiful cluster of hair and he strokes his finger through it until he finds the small bud under it. Her breath shortens and her hips roll at the bare touch of his finger, so he moves his head down and put the barest touch to it with his tongue. Her fingers weave through his hair as she nearly sobs and moves her hips higher to his mouth. A touch felt amazing, so maybe a line would too? He tongues a slow and gentle line down and she rips one hand from his hair to suppress her gasp. He looks up at her and her eyes are closed and her neck arched. When she opens them again and sees him looking, she smiles, gleams in her eyes, and nods her head and nods it and she’s shining in her pleasure in a way that wrenches his own heart in happiness and gratitude. If nothing else, if never anything else, he’s giving her this. “Again?” he whispers and she puts her hand back in his hair and smiles brightly as she closes her eyes.

It’s incredible how this one tiny spot, smaller than a fingertip, even the hood of it, can send a woman into rapture. He strokes it from top to bottom with the tip of his tongue several more times and has to put his hands gently on her hips to keep them in place because she’s moving her whole body underneath him, one shallow breath following another. She’s drawn her knees up and angled her legs slightly to each side and he wishes he could see themselves from the air, his head between her legs and her head thrown back. He licks a little faster and he has a feeling she’s close to the pinnacle from the way her breathing has turned into little gasps and she’s rocking hard underneath him. He remembers how he had sucked her nipple and he gently sucks her now and he knows with immeasurable satisfaction that he’s done well by her when she covers her mouth with her hand and moans raggedly under it and she thrusts up and down quickly and then drops her hips to the floor, gasping, “Oh, oh, _oh_.”

 In all his work through the years, he’s accomplished nothing greater than this. Textbooks and instruments seem like so many little objects beneath the sweet story they’re creating here with her hands and his tongue. He thinks that at another time in his life he’d be embarrassed that he’d known no women before her, but now he wants all his first times to belong to her so that she can have his second, and third, and all times, the entire span of his pleasure-giving days. He wants to tell her and is easing himself upwards until she grips his shoulders to say _stop_. That anxious alarm takes hold of his nerves again but is quelled when she uses her hands to lower him back down and says, with the most melting mix of seriousness and slyness, “Inside.”

“Inside?” He’s genuinely stunned by this one, but when has being stunned by a possibility ever made the possibility less appealing to him? And two opportunities to give her ecstasy? As if he needed any more motivation, so he slides his head back down. There’s wetness on her inner thigh and he licks it. She hums approvingly so he licks his way up to her opening, lapping all the wet from her two lips and taking them in his mouth briefly before placing his tongue ever so slightly inside. He hears an “Mmm” from her and she’s gently tugging his head forward so he slides his tongue further in. She’s so slick and warm and he feels himself harden again as he carefully tries to enter her as far as he can. But the task he’s taken so lovingly is far more important than his own physical satisfaction right now. He thinks he could lay here and engulf himself in all the wetness and warm scent of her, but ideas are turning around in his mind and one of those ideas is movement. So he moves his tongue inside her, side to side and then in a circle. She has one hand clamped over her mouth but he can still hear her breathy moans. She keeps her other hand firmly on his head as he twirls his tongue around and around.

He’s happily making as many different movements with his tongue as he can when she cries out and her hand can’t even stifle the noise. He freezes, horrified that he might somehow have hurt her, and is out of her in an instant but she’s grabbing his shoulder, his arm, whatever she can reach and gesturing with her other hand for him to put his tongue back in place. As she guides his face back down, she softly says, “You found the best spot. Find it again.”

Relieved, he doesn’t need to be told twice. So there’s a spot inside her that feels the most wonderful when touched with his tongue. He tries to remember the patterns he was making when he touched it and his good memory serves both of them well as she moans with both hands threaded through his hair again. Like he had with the small bud on the outside of her, he gently touches this new spot with the tip of his tongue, pulls back, and then touches it again. It’s velvet soft and he closes his eyes and sighs in his own pleasure at the feel of her, the way he fits so well inside her, at knowing she’s in ecstasy as she starts to buck herself back and forth. He’s better at following the movements of her hips this time, keeping up with her as she rides herself on his tongue.

She stops him for a few moments, her chest rising and falling quickly, and then touches his cheek and runs a finger over his lips. She smiles in a dreamlike way before she lifts her hips back up and he doesn’t have time to smile before he’s caressing her inside again. He knows her wetness has gotten on his chin, his face, and it makes him feel beautiful. He finds the spot again and takes his time touching it and then retracting his tongue and then touching it again. She’s rolling her upper body on the floor now, moaning and crying under her hand, taking it away for just a moment to whisper, “ _Fast and hard,”_ and he flicks his tongue and pushes it harder. She’s writhing under him, then arching her back so high, and he struggles to keep his hands steady on her hips but he keeps his tongue in her and hits the spot with the tip of his tongue. He’s moving his tongue as fast as he can and he feels a thrill that it’s fast enough to make her swell and break, which she finally does, her hands still gripping his face to her as she thrusts upward. She forgets to take her hands from his head as she has her moment and her ecstatic keening is like a bird song he’s been pining to hear his whole life.

As she collapses back onto the blankets, he kisses the inside of her thighs and she hums with laughter, breathing still ragged. She pulls him up to her breast and lays his head on her chest and he closes his eyes and lets it buoy him gently up and down, the only beautiful sea in the world right now. She’s sheened all over in sweat but he keeps his ear over her heart, still drumming fast, and finds her hand and weaves his fingers through it.

They lay in their blanket nest for awhile, only breathing, only being. The lamps have long burned out and they’re in total darkness but he imagines he can see her face, her softly closed eyes and the corners of her lips turned slightly up. She begins tracing a finger on his arm, then his back, and he raises his chin and rests it gently near her face.

“I did well?”

She squeezes their interlaced fingers. “I have never known a better night, or a better day.” She strokes his cheek and then takes it with both hands and they kiss, a novel of kisses from a slow-paced beginning to a more intense middle and to the frenzied, ecstatic climax to the slow-down of the last minutes.

“My Harry,” she says into his ear and his eyes mist and she gently touches the wetness out of them with the pad of her finger.

The next night, she uses her mouth on his cock and the flood of rapture through his veins is nothing short of a miraculous discovery but afterwards, in each other’s arms again, he finds he is just as satisfied as when he’d pleasured her with his tongue. He wouldn’t change that. He reaffirms that statement every time they make love afterwards, whether only with tongues or him inside of her with her either on her back or straddling him or when he finds that her fingers inside him also find a spot of joy he didn’t know existed. Kisses enjoyed lavishly night and day, holding hands during lessons, and their naked bodies pressed together every night.

The Passage will never be as important as her and her ecstasy. 


End file.
